


It was a rainy Thursday

by Kathyforest52



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Twilight Series - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Not Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Compliant, One-Shot, Post Avengers, Vampire Coulson, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2018-02-10 11:45:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2023884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kathyforest52/pseuds/Kathyforest52
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One moment he was resting on a medical cot, body heavy with medication and eyes drooping in exhaustion; when he felt a sharp prick on his neck in two spots. This was likely to be the insertion of more medication, so he didn't protest when his world returned to the black void of unconsciousness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It was a rainy Thursday

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Any recognisable characters, references and locations from the movie ‘Avengers’ and the novels from the ‘Twilight’ Saga belong to their respective owners. 
> 
> A/N: Hey! I found this on my computer a few days ago and I decided to post it. I wrote this shortly after viewing the Avengers movie in 2012, so it doesn't take into consideration anything from Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. 
> 
> This is unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. Enjoy the story!

 

A loud stream of curses sounded from the medical bay in the SHIELD Helicarrier (which wasn't really an unusual occurrence) just as Maria Hill passed the doorway to the SHIELD med-bay.

She stopped mid-stride and tilted her head to the side listening intently, silently gauging whether it was safe to enter the vicinity of the area without having something hard thrown at her.

She waited a moment and then stepped into the bay, after finally deeming it safe enough for her to do so.

The metal doors whirred shut behind her. A dark skinned man in a black trench coat slouched in a generic plastic chair next to a generic medical cot, his head in his hands.

However the cot he was sitting next to was supposed to be occupied.

Hill started to understand the expression of grief on what she could see of the black man’s face, instead of the tight pinched one of suppressed rage and grief which he had been wearing a few hours earlier. 

She moved closer and suppressed a gasp when she noticed tear tracks down his face.

Oh this was bad. So very _bad_. Nick Fury, did _not_ cry ( _ever_ ).

“He’s gone,” Fury whispered as he turned his face towards her.   

“What?” She choked out, unable to even think about what his previous comment meant. _He was gone. How was he gone? The doctors only just brought him back after he flat-lined. He was here, in this room not even an hour ago. In that bed_ …In the now empty bed.

“How?” She managed to force out through clenched teeth. _Who did this? Why?_

“I don’t know. But they are going to pay. Phil Coulson was – is,” Fury proclaimed angrily, rubbing a calloused hand across his face “a great man. And we _will_ get him back.”

“I am sure we will,” Maria countered, a soft smile gracing her face if only for a moment.

_If only you could see us now Phil. We’re getting soft. Please be okay wherever you are. We'll get you back, I promise._

“Fury, maybe you should contact the Avengers, I should think that they’d be interested in this new development,” She proposed, whilst she watched Fury’s mouth twist into a scowl at the mention of Avengers.

He still wasn't quite over how much damage New York City had taken during the invasion from the Chitauri, despite how without the assemblage (which caused also caused immense damage for SHIELD to deal with) and implementation of the team the damage and repercussions for everyone could have (no, would've) been worse.

“I will. Once I've found him.” Fury protested somewhat weakly, but he wasn't really arguing with her.

He stood up, brushed down his clothes and wiped his cheeks. Maria looked away offering him the illusion of privacy.

He made his way to the door once his was satisfied with his appearance, and nodded at her, conveying the silent message to  _tell them if you must_ , before turning briskly and striding out the door.

 

* * *

 

 

It was a rainy Thursday when Phil Coulson became a Vampire.

One moment he was resting on a medical cot, body heavy with medication and eyes drooping in exhaustion; when he felt a sharp prick on his neck in two spots. This was likely to be the insertion of more medication and so he didn't protest when his world returned to the black void of unconsciousness.  

Then suddenly he was writhing in pain.

It started like a small tingle of heat in his fingertips, that rushed through his arteries to his arms, turning into a warm river that ran into his legs, then slowly built up to a raging inferno that burnt everything in its wake.

He remembered wondering whether or not the pain was caused by his medication finally wearing off, but those thoughts were soon taken over by the startling realisation that he was dying.

Again (the feeling of death wasn't something you could forget easily).

Then there was nothing.

Just quiet.

Heat blossomed and rushed into his heart in one massive wave that crested until it felt like he was being tortured repeatedly with the venom of fire ants (It had happened once to him. It was not a enjoyable experience) and thrown into a flaming furnace (Which had also happened to him; twice. Enjoyable experience it was not.) at the peak of its heating.

Then suddenly it was like all the heat from the room and inside him had dissipated.

Coulson’s eyes flew open, and he automatically began to analyse the situation he was in.

He definitely wasn't in the SHIELD med-bay.  The actually comfortable bed was testament to that. His field training quickly kicked in (once a spy, always a spy).

_Look around, check exits, take out enemy, and return to headquarters_.

He opened his eyes ready to do just that, and was shocked beyond words at what he saw.

Or rather the clarity of what he was seeing.

Everything was _so_ clear.

Every detail was visible; from the dust residing on an orange vase in the corner of the room to the individual grains of wood in the high vaulted ceiling, to ants crawling on the far window on the other side of the room (not to mention the immense range of things he could hear, andtaste just on the air itself).

_Holy shit!_  

Thoughts like _Is this was Clint sees all the time_ and _What is going on?_ ran through his mind.

Was this all a hallucination? Maybe he really did die and this was the afterlife? (he hoped not, he didn't really want to spend eternity in a boring, dusty room. He's spent enough time before, sitting in a dusty room, bored; sorting out SHIELD's paperwork. _Ugh,_ Paperwork). 

He stood up, and felt his body respond instantly (Which was the least of his worries.Where the heck had the huge gaping hole in his chest walked off to?).

_Whoa._

Wait, _what_?

A footstep within the room echoed on the floorboards and reverberated in his ears.

His head snapped up at the sound and he was greeted with the appearance of a petite, black spikey haired woman with brilliant amber eyes (the mischievous look in her eyes reminded him of Clint and trouble. Coulson internally groaned. From the woman's smirk he mustn't have hidden the groan very well. _Rats_ _!_ )

“Hi, my name is Alice Cullen. What’s yours?”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone has any concerns about this story, I would like to know so I can fix them. 
> 
> Otherwise... Thanks for reading!


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